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Wednesday, October 29, 2014

For Pete's Sake! Close the Door!

There is something watching me as I
sit here in the kitchen writing. It is quiet now but there have been
footsteps, open cupboard doors, shadows where there is no light...

It may be her story...

But this is my story too.

We were in the house about four months.
Nothing special, except to us. Oh, the previous owner had passed
away; 'dead before she hit the floor' according to our neighbor.
Which was no surprise given the amount of nicotine on the kitchen
tiles and living room curtains. At least she liked to read. Along
with all the nicotine stains the previous owner left a makeshift
library in the basement.

We replaced the curtains, chipped away the tiles and added a faux brick wall. The books were donated to
Goodwill, except for a copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover and a vintage
Escapade magazine featuring some B-List actor's wife as the
centerfold. The previous owners not only had a penchant for smoking.
Apparently they also enjoyed light pornography.

But it was our house now.

Nothing special.

Until....

My husband was at work, night shift. I
was alone. Well, not exactly. Baraboo, our cat was there. Not exactly
with me. She was never that sort of cat. But she was in the house. I
went to bed with the plan of a good night's sleep before a big day of
gardening.

I woke to the smell of smoke. Not the
smell of a fire. Just the smell of smoke. Sitting up in bed, I took a
deeper breath and the smell was gone. But as I lay back down, it
drifted back into my nostrils, wrapping its tendrils around my head
and seeping deep into my brain.

I sat up again. The smell was faint.
But there was something else. A sound. Soft and fluttery, like the
sound a page makes when it is turned slowly in a movie. My initial
thought was how ridiculous it was. I had spent the past twelve weeks
removing the previous owners remnants.

And then I heard the book hit the
floor.

I quietly got out of bed and slowly
walked to the doorway. I flipped the light switch and illuminated a
nearly empty hallway. Baraboo sat at the far end, staring down the
steps to the basement. She turned her head, the way a cat does, her
expression a 'well, let's get this over with'.

Okay.

I walked to her side and flipped the
stairwell light. The house was a split level. Four steps down to the
landing and then another switch to flip.

Pause.

An invisible smoke curl and pages
turning.

Four steps to the basement.

Flip a switch.

We were using the basement as a
catch-all of items waiting for permanent spots once this level was
finished. An old couch looked toward an as yet uninstalled wood
burning stove. Several boxes towered in one corner. The leather front
bar, a 'bonus' piece with our new upstairs furniture waited to be
stocked, the bar stools sitting empty.

No smoke in sight.

No book open to a telling passage.

One last switch and the back of the
basement lit up. Empty metal shelves lined one wall. All empty. Not a
sound.

Not a smell.

I shook my head and looked down at the
cat who gave me a look which said, "what is wrong with you.
There's nothing here."

"Come on Boo. You're right."
Together we turned and reversed our course. Lights flipping off.
Rooms bathed in darkness as we made our way up the stairs. At the
mouth of the hallway, the cat took the lead. Walking gracefully down
the middle of the carpet, stopping before each open door, surveying
the shadows cast by the hall light, then moving on. I followed along.
One eye on the cat, the other on my bedroom at the end of the hall.
Four doorways in between.

Bedroom on the left. Clear.

Bathroom on the right. Clear.

A second bedroom. Clear.

At the powder room door Baraboo
stopped, I did the same. But rather than calmly sniffing the air and
moving on she took a step forward. And with a low growl, she hunched
her back, hair bristling from neck to the end of her tail which now
stood at attention. Her tiny paws lifted her off the floor in a
sideways dance as her growl became more intense.

My circulation stopped. Cold grabbed
hold as every nerve in my body began to quake. Grabbing the cat I
bolted for my bedroom, slamming the door and diving under the covers
in less than three steps.

I never did look into that bathroom.

In my mind I heard our
neighbor....'dead before she hit the floor'...

Only I would have a ghost who makes it's first appearance smoking and reading while on the toilet.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Hope you have enjoyed this month of scary. If you have stumbled over
here to the Coast then check out these links on the right.

And come back next week when the Coast of Illinois returns to it's
'normal' ridiculous self. Scary, but only because these ridiculous
things really do happen to me.

Rena - we have had numerous 'events' here. Best I can figure, it is the lady of the house - who had a massive heart attack in the kitchen. She gets riled up when we do any sort of home improvement - with lots of foot stomping and shadows in the hallway. There was one broken glass but that may have been an accident! lol. We have also been visited by the ghost of Baraboo - the cat in the story. And I can say this with all confidence as my non-believing husband was present when Boo came to visit! The incident in the story above freaked me out at the time, but now, with numerous visits under our belt, I find it sort of nice and reassuring. I like the idea that people and pets get a chance to come back and 'visit'!

Blah Blah...

I'm a landlocked beach bum here on the Coast of Illinois. No...not that Coast, you know, the one with broad shoulders. The other Coast. The one with tug boats and Arches and a bunch of ancient dead guys buried in Mounds.
I am an inadvertent sailor-thanks to my husband and our 15 foot handmade wooden sloop...for which I made the sails!
I am here to promote the beach bum lifestyle, even when surrounded by corn and clay and I hope to point out the everyday weirdness that is easy to miss because once you start seeing hairnets, you will never stop seeing hairnets.

I have a palm tree necklace. It set us back a whole ten dollars, purchased on the boardwalk in Destin, Florida during the first trip ...

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